Colder Than Me
by the-coconut-bubble
Summary: She was an abused girl with no family. He was the tortured slave of a criminal. They met. They fell in love. This is their story. Rated M for a reason.
1. Taken

**(A/N: This is my first piece of M rated fiction. Flame if you hate it, but tell me why. Sakura is an only child, for those of you who think I'm sticking to the original story line. Enjoy.) **

Disclaimer: I do not own Card Captor Sakura. I own whatever their personalities are in this story and any character that I make up.

Chapter 1

The shadow grew. Sakura walked faster. Footsteps, so close behind her. She stepped into a puddle. The splash echoed menacingly.

She felt a presence, just behind her. A strong hand clamped her mouth and another hand pulled her against the damp wall of the alley. She tried to yell, her eyes widening, but a sharp pain in her thigh and a strange numbing sensation stilled her, and she fell unonscious. The last thing she saw as her eyes fluttered shut was a pair of empty amber eyes.

----------

Ever since she was little, Sakura Kinomoto had always had a fascination with knives.

Her earliest memory of her encounter with her favourite weapon was when she was almost one. She remembered it so clearly.

It was a sunny morning on a sunny day in the Kinomoto household. Young Sakura was sitting at breakfast with her parents. Everyone's heads were bowed as Mr. Kinomoto uttered a morning prayer. Sakura, who was too young to understand such complicated rituals, was looking around and wondering why everyone was so asleep.

A shiny strip made of a cold substance lay a foot away from her on the table. It attracted her gaze like flies to a bright light. How strange...yet...she was mesmerized. She reached forward and picked it up by the blade, holding it in her small clumsy fingers. She raised it to her eyes and looked at it closely. It was so shiny. So cold. So...beautiful. She saw her reflection in it, a small girl with pale skin and wide green eyes, with a soft mouth and a stubborn chin. But then the blade cut into the tender skin of her hand. She felt a strange sensation, as if something were seeping away from her. But it didn't hurt.

The next thing she knew, her mother was shrieking and wrenching the knife away from her grasp. Too late, though. A stream of red blood was running steadily down Sakura's tiny hand. But she didn't cry. She just looked at it, fascinated, then looked back at the knife, which was smeared with her crimson life. And she smiled.

----------

Sakura woke in a dark room. In a flash, she took in her surroundings. It was gray and bare. Cold floors and slimy walls were natural, but this was beyond what she'd ever seen before. A door, dark and forboding, stood at the other end of the room. The small opening at the top was covered with a dirty mirror. A one-way mirror. Her brow furrowed. She hated people who were too cowardly to let their victims see them face-to-face. There was only one window in the room. It had long since been covered with black paint, not letting anyone see in or out. The only source of light in the room was a single flourescent lightbulb, swinging ominously from the ceiling, as if an invisible something had just disturbed its dusty existence. Dried blood stained a corner of the room and made her neck prickle. Even worse was the evil aura about the place. In all the years of her life, she'd never experienced anything like the coldness and fear that place radiated. She backed up against the wall, images from every horror movie she'd ever seen flooding her mind, until she had to bite her lip to stop the terror from overwhelming her.

Something wet trickled down her chin. She reached a hand up and touched blood. Her mouth curved up in a hesitantly dry smile. _At least its better than home. _

----------

The year she turned five, which was old enough for any bright child to understand anything, she discovered that her father was an alcoholic. He would return home late every night, smelling of beer and body odour. Nobody dared speak to him when he was drunk; not the servants, not her mother, not even her old nana, who had looked after her father since he was a little boy. Every night, she huddled in bed, waiting for the door to slam and her father to stomp down the hall. Even with her door tightly shut, she thought she could still smell the alcohol when he walked by. She'd hear him walk to his room and shut the door there, and begin talking in a slurred voice to her mother, as if she were nothing but a whore, and he had an excuse to be behaving as he was. Usually, this exercise would be followed by curses, her mother's gasps and pleas for him to stop, drowned out by her father's drunken moans. After a while, all would be quiet, and Sakura would wrap the blankets tightly around her and try to sleep. For she knew that something was terribly, terribly wrong with her life.

As time went on, this became routine. It didn't even bother her so much anymore, until the day came that changed her life forever. She remembered the day...that day...when he came home smelling of sex. And another woman. Her mother, who had put up with his attitude for a considerable while, finally confronted him. The crashing and cursing and screams of pain still echoed in her mind.

The next day, for the first time in her life, her father struck her. His big golden ring tore a gash across her face, and he had stormed out of the house without a backwards glance. She remembered sinking down on the floor, the feeling of despair drowning out all physical pain. Her mother had wrapped her bruised arms around her small body, and cried silently into her daughters hair. Sakura had let the tears flow. They cascaded out from under her eyelids, down her cheeks, which were still round with the clear innocence of youth, into her stinging wound, and dripped silently down her chin into her mother's lap.

Her mother could do nothing but whisper small comforts into her ear, and kiss her gently. Sakura cried till she fell asleep. When she awoke, she was in her bed, and a strong smell of alcohol lingered about the room. Fear made her open her eyes. She saw the dark profile of her father sitting in a chair near her bed. His eyes were downcast, distant, shining with tears. He must have noticed she was awake, and turned to look at her. She kept her eyes hooded, and looked up at him through her eyelashes. Silence followed. Finally,

"Sakura," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

She'd turned away from him then, and pretended to sleep. But she couldn't sleep. So she lay there, wide awake, until he left the room. She allowed herself to cry then, just a little. The pillow dried her tears, and she slept.

The next day, she awoke to find fresh bruises on her mother's face, and renewed sadness in her eyes.

_Why did I ever believe he was truly sorry? _

Yes, she had let the tears flow then. But never again. Never in front of anyone else.

----------

Something creaked. A step outside the room. Heavy breathing, and someone trying to keep it quiet. The door clicked, swung open slowly. The shadow that had pursued her down the alleyway returned, striding silently across the room towards her.

Sakura struggled to her feet, terror arising again. But she kept her face placid, void of all emotion.

In a second, the man had crossed to her, and stared her down. The lightbulb swayed, and threw the shadow from his face, if only for a moment. She kept her face blank, not voicing the surprise in her. Here stood a lean _boy_, who couldn't have been much older than herself, looking her full in the face, holding a gleaming knife in his hand. His eyes were empty, lifeless. But his body radiated coldness, and strength, and no fear. Sakura had no doubt he could overpower her without even trying. Nevertheless, she had to fight, or at least die fighting, for she doubted anyone who kept her in this hellhole had good intentions.

She took up a stance that she'd learned on the street, which had saved her life on more than one occasion. However, she was still shaky from the drug he'd injected into her earlier, and her vision swayed as she stood upright. Against her will, her hand went out against the wall.

In a flash, the boy moved. He dug his elbow into her ribs, knocking the air out of her lungs. As she struggled to breathe and reorient herself, she felt his foot kick her feet out from under her. She fell, still gasping for air. He caught her just before she hit the cold concrete, and held the knife up to her throat. Despite the situation, Sakura smiled. Knives were part of her, as natural as an arm or a leg. Nobody could hurt her with one. Besides, who would? Stupid question. He'd already hurt her. Not much, but he had. What did it matter if he hurt her with her favourite thing in the world or her least?

As she thought, she breathed in, and smelled the stranger's metallic scent. But yes, of course. _He_ would. This man, boy really, would hurt her without a thought. Yet, there was something about him, something exotic, dangerous. He had attacked when she'd least expected it, forcing her to bend to his will. It was her own legacy: submit or die. Apparently, he followed the same one. He was cold, heartless, sharp and cruel. Like a knife.

But then she looked into his empty amber eyes, and saw herself there, reflected in them. She knew he saw the same in hers. There they stayed, locked in the moment. A flicker of life kindled in his eyes, and he drew in a shaky breath. The knife lowered slowly. He moved closer.

"Wha...?" her voice trailed off as all her resolve melted away. He was so close, his eyes now burning into her own, scorching her with their heat. What was happening? The closeness of him wouldn't allow her to think straight. She felt the heat of his body, the lean muscle of his chest, the knife just touching her arm. Against her will, she moved closer too.

Suddenly, a loud crack echoed through the room. The boy flinched, his eyes stretched wide, and his mouth opened in a surpressed cry of pain.

Sakura looked around him in alarm, and saw a blurry shadow standing at the doorway, holding a long, thin whip. Suddenly, she felt the same pain that she had in the alleyway, only this time in her arm. She looked at the boy again, her face for once betraying her fear. Right before she fell unconscious, she realized that his eyes were empty and hollow once more.

**(A/N: Well what did you think? If I don't get at least 7 reviews I won't continue. Yes, it's a threat.)**


	2. New Acquaintance

**(A/N: Thanks for all your reviews. I'm glad I could continue. Enjoy.) **

Disclaimer: I do not own Card Captor Sakura. I own whatever their personalities are in this story and any character that I make up. I own my storyline.

Chapter 2

For the hundreth time, she told herself not to be afraid. The walls weren't pressing in on her. The floor wasn't falling out from under her. There was no one watching on the other side of the one-way mirror. She was not afraid. But she was. She was so afraid.

----------

Fear. She thought she was used to it; all the times her father had come home and terrorized her had taken its toll on her mind and body. Scars were etched across her back, her legs, her arms and neck, all from the numerous times he had struck her with whatever he could lay his hands on. His belt, a whip, a blunt stick, a metal curtain rod...permanent scars from these that would last for life. But his words. They hurt more. The scars they made were so much deeper.

Imbecile, bitch, whore, oaf. Just words...until they came from her father. And still just words, that tore her heart all the same. He told her a thousand times over that she was no daughter of his. But she loved him, still, and it hurt her all the more. Her heart would never be whole again.

Fear. The only constant thing in her life, apart from inconsistence itself. The one thing she thought she was used to. Still there, for sure, but changed. It was so much worse now.

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"Syaoran." A hoarse voice floated out from the shadows.

Syaoran turned his head. "Yes, master?"

"Come here."

The boy walked to his master, who was sitting in a wooden throne of sorts, and stood respectfully.

"Can I get you anything, sir?" His tone was emotionless.

The man frowned slightly. "Syaoran, what were you doing with that girl today?"

"Which girl, master?"

"Have you forgotten already?"

"I can't seem to recall anyone who was significant enough to remember."

His master let his breath hiss out slowly.

"The girl in the room, you fool. The one with the green eyes and anorexic figure, unless I'm mistaken. You were bent over her, and I have no idea nor notion of what you were about to do, but Syaoran, she is my property. I didn't like how close you two were, and I will never find it amusing if you decide to touch her more than you should. So as a reminder to you, stay away from her. If I catch you "feeling her up" again, the consequences will be...painful."

Syaoran bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement, and turned away. He didn't care. Why should he? He didn't even know this girl. He barely remembered her.

----------

The floor outside creaked again, waking Sakura from her restless slumber. She sat up, instantly alert. Was it the boy again? For some reason, the thought made her heart hammer. She shook her head and dropped her lids, hooding her eyes. The door opened.

"Ouch," a female voice muttered, then giggled, as a male voice answered it.

Sakura's ears perked up. Someone was _giggling_? In _this _place? What an unexpectedly welcome sound.

A girl, about Sakura's own age, tottered through the door, carrying a large tray in her hands and a bundle under her arm. She smiled again as the male voice whispered something, then a hand gave her a gentle push forward. She came into the room and smiled at Sakura.

Sakura looked her over. Long, dusky-purple hair flowed from where it was held in place with a black rag, tattered clothing covered a gracefully thin frame, and large, sparkling purple eyes were set in a face that looked as if it were happy to see her. Sakura couldn't help feeling slightly more at ease with such a presence in the room. Before she could speak and ask the girl what business she had, the girl beamed at her, and her eyes crinkled into slits of delight.

"Hi," she said cheerfully, walking toward Sakura. "I'm Tomoyo. What's your name?"

Sakura thought fast. She seemed like a nice enough girl, but could she really be trusted? She decided to play it safe, just in case.

"I'm Rika," she replied softly, using the name of one of her childhood friends.

"Hmm..." Tomoyo studied her carefully, her head tilted onto one side. "You don't _seem_ like a Rika. Hey! A-Rika! Arika! I like that..." Sakura raised an eyebrow slightly, but she couldn't help smiling. Tomoyo noticed.

"Well, whatever. You're the only girl I've seen in this place for a long time that's my age. Most of the--" she hesitated, decided to go on, "--_servants_...here..are guys." She lowered her voice. "I don't like them at all. They pick on me and call me names, even get touchy-feely once in a while." She shuddered. "The bad way, if you know what I'm talking about." Sakura nodded. She knew. Tomoyo continued. "My advice, stay away from them all. They can't be trusted. Except for Eriol. He's nice." She smiled and a faint blush appeared on her cheeks. She abruptly changed the subject. "Anyway, I'm glad you're here, even though I doubt you are."

"Where is here?" asked Sakura, glad she could finally get in a word. Tomoyo became serious.

"You mean you don't know?"

"Would I be asking if I knew?" Sakura's voice was even, hiding her slight contempt.

Tomoyo grinned. "I suppose not. Well..." The grin faded as quickly as it had come. "I suppose you gotta know sometime. See, the thing is, this is top-secret, what I'm about to tell you. I'm not even supposed to know, but I'm pretty well connected with Eriol, and he's pretty well connected with...the master."

"The master?" _What a lame-o name, _she thought. _Who calls himself "the master?" _

"Yes. A while back, a couple of decades I think, he started an underground gang. His gang members called themselves the Secrets of Life. Yeah, I know," she added, catching the look on Sakura's face. "Pretty corny. The thing is, they actually did know the secrets of life. Some of them did anyway. They put these to their uses, and did terrible things. Remember the atom bomb that the Americans dropped on us?" Sakura nodded. "Everyone thinks it was the Americans, but it was actually them that did it."

"How? Where did they get the technology?"

"They know the secrets of life, remember? After they dropped a couple of bombs, the war with the rest of the world ended. Turns out the war was interfering with some of their major plans, so they had to stop it. Unfortunately, something they hadn't anticipated came along, and that was the cancer. Leukemia. Lots of people died from it, including many of the gang itself. I don't think it was more of a gang than an actual organization, though. So anyway, after the people died, there were only seven members of the organization left. They were all men, so they couldn't have children to carry on their legacy. They couldn't exactly just walk out onto the street and pick up a wife either, because in order to have children with someone, you must love them, and they you, wholeheartedly. It's one of their unbreakable rules. But the Secret of Life was public and government enemy number one, so whoever they told would probably shun them and run away in the end. So they're living out life, trying to find an heir to take over the throne. That's why they kidnapped all the children of the wealthiest and most powerful families in Japan, and from all over the world. Rumour has it that one of the boys is the American president's son. I tell you, they're trying to find the heir to their throne of darkness." She said these last words dramatically, her eyes widening.

Sakura wasn't about to be won over that easily though. "How did they get him?"

"The American boy? We're talking about the guys who made the Americans think that they dropped the Hiroshima bomb and took credit for it, remember? It was probably a cinch."

Sakura nodded. "But you still haven't told me where we are."

Tomoyo laughed. "Oh, right. Well, we're in the secret headquarters of the organization. Nobody in the world, apart from true members, know where it is."

"And who's this master person?"

The other girl dropped her eyes. "He's the leader of the whole gang. One of the most powerful men on earth, without anyone even knowing it. That's power. And he's ruthless. Heartless. He handpicks boys who he thinks are worthy enough to train himself, and cater to him. He makes them all just like him. You should stay away from him."

"So, will he get touchy-feely on me too?"

She meant it as a joke, but Tomoyo's eyes suddenly clouded over, and she gave a small shuddering gasp. Sakura leaned forward, concerned.

"Are you alright?"

Tomoyo shook her head. "I'm fine. And yes, he will. At every opportunity he gets."

It took a moment for the realization of what she had just said to sink in. _Tomoyo..._

The girl interrupted Sakura's thoughts and held out the tray that she had brought in. "Eat," she said. "It's good food. After you're done, put on this dress."

She reached for the bundle she had laid down earlier in the heat of the story, and unraveled it. It was a beautiful dress, made of delicate, sparkling green that matched Sakura's eyes, and embroidered with shining blue that wrapped around the arms, wound its way around the torso, and spiraled down the skirt. Sakura looked at it and her brow furrowed.

"What's wrong?" asked Tomoyo, looking up from the lovely creation. "Don't you like it? I think it's beautiful."

"One, it's way too tight. It'll show off much more than needed. Two, I don't wear dresses anyway. I'm not a dressy person." Saying this brought back memories...

----------

Seven-year-old Sakura walked down the street, hand in hand with her mother. They turned a corner onto a small path in the woods. Her mother had bought her a pretty dress, white with green patches, that brought out her eyes. Sakura was licking her ice cream, happy that for once, she could spend a day out of the house; away from the screaming, the pain, and the constant fear.

Suddenly, two men stepped out onto the path. Sakura's mother didn't look up, and tried to walk by them with a polite, "Excuse us." They moved in closer, not letting her pass.

"Well, aren't you a pretty little mother out walkin' with her pretty little daughter. Is she adopted?" The first man leered at the young girl, then eyed her mother. "'Cause you still got _all_ your nice curves in the right places!"

Her mother's eyes widened. "Get away from me!" She pulled Sakura close, and attempted to hide her. The other man pounced, grabbing Sakura with his lean, wiry hands. She cried out and tried to kick him. He jumped back easily, not letting go of her and laughing.

"This one's frisky! She'll be more fun than her mother!" He turned to look at her in her pretty dress. "I'd like to get that thing off you little girl...I'm glad you're not wearing pants. Oops, I'm sorry, did that sound wrong?" He laughed racously.

"Oh, I don't think she'll be more fun than her mother. This one's not wearing pants either." The first man leaned close to her mother, pressing her body to his and covered her lips roughly with his. She tried to scream, and wriggled feebly in his strong grasp. The man moaned into her mouth as her thigh pressed into him. Sakura could only watch in horror as he proceeded to strip her mother. She was too preoccupied to notice that the other man was staring hungrily at the other two, then at her with a kind of primal lust.

Suddenly, he wrenched her off her feet and pushed her to the ground. He shoved his hand up her dress and began feeling around. Sakura cried. Then she remembered that her friend Rika had shown her where her little brother was most sensitive. So she kicked out as hard as she could with her foot, and connected squarely with the _thing _(she thought) in between his legs. He yelled in pain and let go of her. She scrambled up off of the ground, and turned to help her mother. The other man had looked up at the sound of his comrade's cry, and had let go of Sakura's mother. The woman wriggled out of his grasp and ran, taking Sakura's hand. They flew down the path, away from the two men. Suddenly, gunshots rang out.

Sakura's mother gasped, and fell to the ground, facedown. Two drops of red seeped through her cotton dress.

"Mommy!" Sakura screamed, turning around.

"No! Run!" Her word were short, coming in gasps.

"I won't leave! I won't leave you!"

"Sakura, if you love me, then you will do as I say! Run NOW!"

So the girl ran. Bullets zinged past her head. It was a miracle none of them hit. She kept running, until her legs gave out and the world turned black.

And thus it was that she lost her mother, the one person in the world whom she had thought would always be there to lean on. Strangely enough, when she awoke in the middle of the woods, she didn't feel like crying. Her grief was beyond what tears could heal. Instead, she felt a coldness inside. A hollow shell that contained all her feelings, and would not let them out.

----------

"Rika?" Tomoyo sounded worried. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She shook her head, clearing her mind. "So...why do I need to wear a dress? Is it possible that I _don't_ wear a dress?"

"No, sorry." Tomoyo smiled sadly. "No way out this time."

"Why not?"

"You're...you're going to meet the Master."

"Oh. Fabulous."

**(A/N: This chapter was mostly one that let you in on the plot a bit more. I'll put in some more mush next chapter if you want it. Promise. So what did you think? If I don't get at least 8 reviews I won't continue. Yes, it's a threat.)**


	3. Meetings

**(A/N: I had a bit longer to write this one, and I hope it's worth all my efforts. Enjoy.) **

Disclaimer: I do not own Card Captor Sakura. I own whatever their personalities are in this story and any character that I make up. I own my storyline.

Chapter 3

"Damn dress."

"Rika!"

"Sorry..."

Sakura winced as another tiny ripping sound announced another tiny hole in the amazingly thin fabric of the dress. After struggling by herself for fifteen minutes, Tomoyo finally took pity on her and helped her pull it on. They realized that the dress must have been much older than it looked.

"Last...one..." Tomoyo grunted as she strung the lace of a corset through the holes in the bodice and pulled. "Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine as soon as this is over," Sakura muttered. The corset didn't bother her at all. Her waist was already so small it didn't really matter. It was just uncomfortably restraining. Sakura thought of all the girls trying so hard out there to lose weight, and smiled crookedly. _Try starving in the streets for ten years. It'll knock some sense into your empty heads. Looks aren't everything. _

"Finished!" Tomoyo stepped around her and surveyed her work admiringly. "You look really nice."

"Will looking nice feed me?"

Tomoyo frowned. "It might get you money...if you...you know..."

"Forget it."

"Well," sighed the other girl. "You'll have to look nice in front of the Master. He won't tolerate anything less."

"And if he gets all touchy-feely on me what am I supposed to do?"

Tomoyo sighed again. "Nothing, if you value your life."

"Well I'd rather die than let him get all touchy-feely on me."

"Don't talk like that! But it's okay. This time. He usually gets to know his victims a little better before he gets--" she grimaced "--touchy-feely on them."

"That's nice to know. What difference will it make if I die today or tomorrow?"

Tomoyo looked at her seriously. "You'll get to live another day if you die tomorrow."

"Living isn't all that it's cut out to be, I've found," Sakura said blandly.

"Ohh," groaned Tomoyo. "You're hopeless. Living is a gift, don't you see? If you just give up on it...well..."

"Well what?"

"Well...it's a waste of all your parents did for you."

_What my parents did for me?_

----------

A small girl in pink pyjamas cowered as her father raised a curtain rod over his head. He yelled at her and was about to bring it crashing down, when a woman suddenly appeared at his shoulder, wrenching his arm down and keeping him from hurting the girl. Tears were pouring freely down the woman's face as she pleaded with him. He shook her off, shouting in her face, spittle flying from his open mouth. Then he turned back to the girl and struck her mercilessly with the metal curtain rod. Before Sakura knew what had happened, her mother had flung herself in front of her and was shielding her from the blows, her screams of pain drilling through the girl's brain, however hard she tried to shut them out.

Suddenly, the horrible noise stopped. Her father quieted, and muttered drunkenly about needing another beer. He dropped the rod, turned, and tottered out of the house.

Little Sakura's mind was blank from shock of what had happened. She crawled forward, and caught her mother just as she fell. Trembling, she looked into her mother's face and flinched. The woman's nose was broken, her lips were purple and bleeding. The cheekbones, so recently become sunken, were dislocated. Sakura couldn't tell through the shirt, but the amount of blood and the way her mother rested on her right side spoke clearly of broken ribs. Her breathing was laboured and shallow. Her normally sparkling eyes were closed, but tears were running steadily down her face as she fought back the pain. Sakura eased her mother off of her lap as carefully as she could, and ran for the phone. She called the police. Help was there in less than five minutes.

Her mother didn't come home from the hospital until two months later. When she did, she found out that her husband had been taken to court for "physical abuse". They were glad that his presence was gone from the house. Their relief was short-lived, however. The servants decided that since Master Kinomoto was gone, their paychecks were also hanging in the balance. Mother and daughter weren't safe in their own home.

----------

Sakura picked up the long black overcoat that had been her "home" for almost ten years. She folded it carefully and tucked it into the bag that Tomoyo had brought with her.

"Don't throw it out," she said, looking directly into Tomoyo's eyes.

"I won't," the other girl promised. "Good luck, Rika."

Sakura left without saying thanks.

----------

Syaoran turned his head, his sharp ears picking up light footsteps and the rustling of a skirt.

"Master," he said softly. "She's here."

His master nodded, eyes fixed on the doorway.

----------

Sakura breathed deeply as she stepped into the room, trying to calm herself. To her disgust and horror, the dress was tightly wrapped around her slim frame, emphasizing every curve. The guard that had brought her here, named Enaka, had said nothing about her attire, only looked her up and down in an approving manner. She was disgusted.

As she walked in, she was painfully aware that the guards at the door were staring at her hungrily. These must be the boys that Tomoyo had been talking about earlier. _Perverted bastards. _

She lowered her lashes and stood by the door, as Tomoyo had told her to do whenever in the presence of the Master. Nobody could approach him without his permission. She glanced up through her eyelashes and surveyed the abnormally large room. Strangely enough, it seemed to be underground. The distant walls were of a reddish rock, lit by flickering torches. A small waterfall (How strange, thought Sakura) fell into a pool of water in the back of the room. The constant sound of trickling water should have been relaxing, and the torches weren't a bad touch. But the atmosphere in the room was one that never relaxed, never warmed for anyone, never laughed. Sakura hated it, though she herself never relaxed, never warmed, and never laughed.

Looking around, she saw only two other people in the room. One was a small boy, who looked about eight, bent down on his hands and knees in a corner, scrubbing away at the stone floor. From her position, she could see that his skin was rubbed red and raw from kneeling on the rough floor, though he bent over his work with a will and didn't show signs of pain.

The second person was a girl, about her own age, just standing in a corner as she was. Her wavy aburn hair fell down in front of her face, hiding her eyes. Sakura looked away.

One corner of the room was drenched in shadow. It didn't take her long to figure out that the torches had all been expertly arranged not to illuminate it. Clearly, this was where the Master resided.

A voice suddenly drifted out from the corner.

"Hello, Sakura."

Sakura blanched inwardly. That voice. At first, it sounded light, melodious, pleasing to listen to. When one heard it, one couldn't help thinking that the owner of such a voice was a pleasant person, as mellow as the timbre of the voice. The more cautious listener would have noticed that underneath that kindly tone was a strange vibe, almost as if the speaker were holding something back. Something very unpleasant. That voice...it was like death.

Sakura heard the vibe. And as soon as she heard it, she knew this man was no good. Despite all the things Tomoyo had said earlier, she'd found it hard to believe that someone could be so evil. But now, just from his voice, she could tell. She was in deep trouble.

But she didn't reply to the voice, only lowered her head slightly in acknowledgement in the direction of the corner. _What does he want from me? I'm not the daughter of some millionaire. I'm not some ditzy actress who makes billions. I'm not going to inherit a fortune or command a country when I grow older. My family's not famous. They're dead. _

"Come here."

She cringed inwardly. He certainly wasn't wasting any time.

----------

"What's wrong, Tomoyo?" Eriol bent forward, his dark blue eyes concerned.

Tomoyo sighed, putting down her stitching. The two of them were in the headquarter kitchens, watching the chef make dinner. Eriol had been just sitting there, talking to her. Ususally, talking to Eriol would loosen her up; make her less tense and took some stress of her shoulders. Today however, something was up, and he knew it. She had to tell him. Nothing was safe from him. She wouldn't feel comfortable keeping anything safe from him.

"You know that girl I was sent to dress today?" she asked. Eriol nodded. "I had to because the Master wanted to see her. I think...I'm worried, Eriol."

Eriol tilted his head slightly, curious as to what eccentric Tomoyo could be worried about. She noticed this and smiled a bit.

"You know I don't usually get attached to people easily, and if you look at this girl at first you wouldn't think there was anything to get too attached to. She's...different. I've never met anyone like her, and I don't think I would have even if I weren't held captive here. But it's strange, you know? I'm not sure what it is, exactly, but...it's almost like she's been through so much that she can't talk about it, or talk about anything at all, even. To anyone. It's like she has to stay closed, and never get close to anyone for fear of getting hurt again. Like if she did get hurt, one more little push would send her over the edge." Tomoyo paused.

"Is this what you're worried about?" asked Eriol.

"No, not exactly. I am worried about this, for sure. But the thing is, I _am _getting attached to her. I can't help it. I feel like she's in need of something, but I don't know what. All I know is that I'll try to be a good friend to her, and try to get her to open up to me. I think of all people, she's the one that would need a shoulder to lean on. She's been carrying her own burden for too long. I can't help but sympathize with her, though I know that I've probably never experienced close to what she has in her lifetime."

Eriol sighed, and reached out, patting her gently on the shoulder. "It's a cruel world," he replied. "And yet, she's not the only one that would need a shoulder to lean on if they ever let anyone help them."

Tomoyo looked up at him, her eyes questioning. "Do you mean...that boy that the Master keeps beside him all the time? You mean that he's like Sakura?"

"Yes. In more ways than just this."

"How do you know?"

"Just a hunch." He smiled crookedly. "My hunches have saved me on more than one occasion." His hand stopped patting her shoulder, and rested there, as its owner thought about the events of his life. His eyes were unfocused, yet Tomoyo felt that he knew she was still there, and if he'd really wanted to he'd have pulled his hand away. A faint blush crept up her face, and she smiled to herself, relishing the touch.

----------

Sakura's quiet footsteps echoed in the large chamber as she walked steadily towards the Master. As she approached the corner, the hairs on the nape of her neck prickled. The shadow-drenched corner was hiding something. Something other than the Master and his eerie, decieving voice.

She blinked as the light suddenly came from behind her, instead of all around her. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she made out a dim figure, sitting erectly on a tall, straight-backed seat. His hands were restless, his legs were still, his face was still hidden.

"So, you're Sakura."

_What a stupid statement. Of course I'm Sakura. _Realization dawned. _Oh. _

Her carefully trained face didn't reveal any emotion, but inside she was frantic. Nobody knew who she was, nobody wanted to know anyway, and nobody was even supposed to know she was alive. It couldn't be possible that this man out of all others knew. Why? How? Clearly, Tomoyo hadn't been lying about his abilities and connections.

Something shifted slightly beside the Master's chair. Sakura's keen eyes made out a box of some sort. Strangely enough, it seemed to be transparent. She could see something moving around inside of it, making small snuffling noises every now and then.

The Master snapped his fingers, and suddenly a torch behind him lit up, illuminating the whole corner with its unexpected brilliance. Sakura's eyes adjusted to the light, and she clenched her jaw to stop herself from crying out in shock and horror.

The object that she'd thought had been a transparent box was a cage. Flies buzzed around it, filling the air with their excited whizzing at the light. A person was in the cage. Someone who looked very old, hunched over as if in pain. But he wasn't old. Sakura's mind reeled; she could hardly believe what she was seeing. It was as if she's suddenly fallen asleep, and dreamed an unreal, terrible nightmare that would not stop even if she awoke. The person in the cage, being tortured and humiliated and scorned beyond imagining, was her father.

He looked up, straight into the eyes of the daughter that he'd forsaken so long ago. She, in turn, looked back at him, and for once an icy coldness radiated from her features, unbound and uncontained. A painfully tense moment later, he looked away, cringing and cowering. She knew then that he was the one who had betrayed her. He was the one who had told the Master all about her, had gotten her kidnapped, thrown in a lifeless hellhole, and put her at the mercy of a man who had none. She knew then, too, that she had no father.

"Touching reunion, I must say. Quite a bit less shouting than I expected, but of course I'll find other ways to use you two against each other."

Sakura's eyes snapped up and rested on the man who found all this pain amusing. He was indeed smiling, in his subtly cruel way. His eyes glinted like crystal shards. Hard, unyielding, trying to penetrate her to the soul.

Though Sakura was caught up in his stare, she mentally noted what he looked like. Another habit picked up in the streets, used so often it became second nature. So this was the great Master. He was surprisingly good looking, in his own cooly vicious way. His grey eyes resided in a thin, sunken face, whose features were prominent. His dark hair, cropped short, nevertheless gave off an air of command. The slender, aristocratic fingers looked cruel and deathly pale to her in the torchlight, and his yellow suit completed the look of a smooth, never-caught, never-suspected criminal.

She caught sudden movement behind his chair, and saw a boy standing in the only shadows that the torchlight had not managed to banish. She wondered why she hadn't seen him before.

The Master was displeased. The girl, through no fault of her own except for her uncommonly sharp senses, had seen what she had not been intended to see. So he said in a voice that suggested a calm, Sunday-morning stroll,

"Come out here, then Syaoran. Don't stay lurking in corners, eavesdropping on our delightful conversation. It's impolite to our...ah..._guest_." As he spoke, he reached down and pulled something long and thin out from under his seat. Sakura watched, apprehension dawning on her, though she had no idea why.

The boy named Syaoran stepped out from behind his master's seat. It was the same brown-haired, amber-eyed boy who had...kidnapped her. And beaten her. And struck her to the ground. And...Sakura's heart thumped and her hands became clammy. _What's wrong with me? It's just a boy. _

"Stand here," the Master commanded softly, indicating a spot in front of him. Syaoran walked towards it and stood there. As he did, his eyes lifted up off the floor and looked straight into Sakura's. She gazed back at him, staring into his empty amber eyes, recalling their last meeting. So absorbed was she in her thoughts and that pair of familiar eyes that she didn't notice the Master raise the long, thin object. Only when he brought it shrieking down through the air did she realize that what he was holding was a whip, and the boy was his target. The whip cracked, and the boy went rigid. It came down again, and again, and again.

Afterwards, Sakura remembered nothing of the surroundings, nothing of the cruel enjoyment on the Master's face, nothing of her father, cowering in his cage like an abused dog. She remembered only staring, second after second, lash after lash, into the boy's lifeless amber eyes. She remembered using every single ounce of her self-control not to flinch with him, and scream for his pain. She remembered clenching her hands so tightly that her nails dug into her palms and made them bleed, remembered wanting so badly to reach out to him and end his pain, and not being able to.

At last, the whip stopped. The air stilled. The soothing sound of gently falling water reached their ears, so alien after the tension in the room. Sakura slowly let out the breath that she hadn't realized she was holding, and breathed in. Her mind cleared, and she realized that on the floor was a dark puddle of blood. It still came, falling, _drip, drip, _running off the boy's back. His shirt had been lashed to shreds, though he showed no sign of noticing it or the blood. His eyes were still locked on hers, and no pain was evident in them.

"Very well," said the Master, his voice piercing the quiet room. It woke Sakura from her lapse, her horrified silence, and fueled her fear. "I hope you enjoy your stay, Sakura. Your first days have been...rather eventful, don't you think? You may leave. Enaka will take you back to your room. I hope to..." he stopped, and looked her up and down. His eyes betrayed his vulgar intentions. "I hope to see you again soon."

Sakura glanced at him, fully aware of what he was implying. Her eyes flitted for a second back to the boy, but he had silently retreated once more into the shadows and was nothing but a shadow himself. She turned and left.

As she walked out of the corner, she felt the torch extinguish behind her. The young boy she had seen earlier was still scrubbing away at the flagstones. She wondered why, until she realized that the blood from his knees kept the floor stained. He was doomed to scrub here forever. The girl was nowhere to be seen.

Enaka detached himself silently from the other guards, who all looked at him with envy, and led her back to her room. He locked her in.

A little later, Tomoyo came in to bring her dinner. She gave Sakura back the clothes that she had been wearing before, but insisted that she keep the dress.

"The Master will want you again soon," she said. It wasn't much comfort.

Tomoyo left soon, seeing that Sakura was even less prone to talk than usual. She smiled before she left, and wished her good night. Sakura nodded.

She curled up against the wall, not bothering to change out of the thin dress. Her overcoat was draped over her shoulders, and provided some comfort in the drafty room. She closed her eyes and buried her face in her knees. Everything that had happened flashed in front of her eyes. Her father, the image of him crouching there, helpless, burning into her mind. The Master, and his unyielding cruelty. His whip, and how it had hurt the boy. Syaoran, the Master had called him. Sakura dimly remembered her Chinese Calligraphy class when she had been younger. Syaoran. It meant Small Wolf. Syaoran. The Small Wolf, injured, trapped in a cage, never able to get out.

Sakura shifted a little, and curled up more. For some reason, the thought of him made her heart flutter. And when he'd gazed into her eyes, she had felt complete, for the first time since she was five years old. She didn't know what this feeling was, this new feeling that made her glad, happy even, but frightened at the same time. She dismissed love as soon as the thought entered her mind. How could it be love? No, she decided. _I promised myself I would never fall in love. Look where it got my parents. I won't ever love. I'll never let myself be so vulnerable to hurt. I won't fall in love, even if I am in love. _

With this thought in mind, she slowly fell into a restless slumber.

**(A/N: I didn't put much mush in this chapter. Thanks Dee241 for answering that last time. If you want more mush, tell me in your review. So what did you think? If I don't get at least 7 reviews I won't continue. Yes, it's a threat.)**


	4. A Turn

**(A/N: I'm sorry about this chapter. It's probably pretty crappy, because I was rushing to finish it. Anyhow, here it is at last.Enjoy.) **

Disclaimer: I do not own Card Captor Sakura. I own whatever their personalities are in this story and any character that I make up. I own my storyline.

Chapter 4

Sakura opened her eyes. Blearily, she recalled the events of last night. Or was it still last night? In the windowless, unchanging room, she had no connection to the outside world, and no way to tell how much time had gone by. She groaned. The wall was an unforgiving pillow. More than once during her sleep, she had been awakened by the pain of hitting her head on the cold stone. To add onto her discomfort, her legs had fallen asleep, numb and unfeeling in their cramped position. Wincing, she leaned back and used the wall for support.

"Ow," she muttered as she immediately fell back down. The pins and needles were starting.

Someone giggled from outside. Instantly, Sakura's face turned to stone, and she settled down on the floor again.

The door opened and in walked Tomoyo, but she wasn't alone. A thin boy with dark blue hair and matching eyes followed closely behind her. Tomoyo flushed lightly as Sakura looked at them. She had learned to read the subtle body language and slight facial expressions that Sakura sent out when she was at ease.

Tomoyo smiled at Sakura, but inwardly she was rejoicing. Rika trusted her enough to have let her guard down slightly, even when she came in with someone the girl had never seen before. _I'm warming to her. _

Eriol looked at the girl curiously, but not in an intruding manner. Then, with a polite bow and a smile, but not so much as a greeting, he said to her,

"Why does such a pretty girl have such sad eyes?"

Sakura looked at him calmly, but she was surprised. Did she have such sad eyes, so that even a stranger could tell? Of course, now that she thought of it, this was no ordinary stranger. She sensed something coming from him. Not power, exactly, but more like a gentle wave of empathy. This boy was like Tomoyo, in a sense. Though Tomoyo was more likely to smile and laugh and chase away fears, this boy understood them, and in doing so, found their weaknesses. But she didn't answer his question, merely raised an inquiring eyebrow. Then she shut her eyes.

"If you couldn't see my eyes, would you think they were sad?"

Eriol and Tomoyo were taken aback. This was new. Tomoyo answered,

"Not at first. At first, I'd think you were angry."

Sakura opened her eyes and scrutinized the girl closely. She was a lot sharper than she let on. They both were. _I've been playing this game my whole life. They don't know anything more than I've let on either. _

"What are you doing here? Surely you didn't come just to stand here chattingaway with me."

Tomoyo sighed. Just when she thought she was actually making some headway, Rika closed up and left her wondering. _Will I ever gain her trust?_

----------

Sakura was worried. She tried not to show it, but she was extremely worried. It was her fifth day as a captive of the Master and his gang. Every day, he called to see her, somtimes more than once. And every time he did this, he looked at her body with an ever-hungry expression that she found very unsettling.

Curled up against the wall, lost in her thoughts, she didn't hear the footsteps outside the door until it swung open. Instantly, she sprang to her feet and stepped away from the wall. She relaxed slightly when she saw Tomoyo. Stepping inside, Tomoyo absentmindedly kicked the door shut behind her and deposited another bundle at Sakura's feet. Sakura glanced down and saw a deep red frill peeping out from the bag. She glared up at the ceiling, sighing.

Tomoyo smiled at this, and said gently, "Rika, it's okay."

"Define 'okay'."

"I guess...well it's not _that_ okay. He wants you to put on the dress."

"And what else is new?" asked Sakura, raising a sarcastic eyebrow.

"You're going to be spending the rest of the day with him," Tomoyo said quickly. "So it's not _that _okay. But I'm sure you'll be fine, Rika." The girl amended her own words with an encouraging smile.

Sakura cringed again inwardly. She liked Tomoyo, truly, and the whole "Rika" thing was getting out of hand. A tiny seed of guilt had been planted in her mind, and it would only grow. But she pushed the thought out, along with the fact that the longer she waited to tell Tomoyo her real name, the worse her friend would take the news.

_Hang on...my friend? When did that happen? When did she become my _friend_? I have no friends, and I'm glad. Even friendship is probably too risky in times like these. __I'm getting too attached to her. This won't do. But I don't want to do something I'll regret later, or anything that will make her sad. Damn. Damn all this that I tried to prevent. It wasn't just love, it was friendship too. Now look at what's happened. I don't want to hurt her, and that could ultimately drag me down. No. No, no no. This definitely won't do. _

"Rika?" Tomoyo asked cautiously. Rika sometimes drifted off into trances, and though Tomoyo would give just about anything to know what she thought of during those trances, she wouldn't dare ask.

Sakura's eyes snapped up to Tomoyo's face. "Yes?"

"N-nothing. Just...the Master wants to see you as soon as possible. So that...he can have as much time as he can with you, he said." Though she tried to keep her voice level, Rika still scared her sometimes.

"Did he say anything else?" Sakura was still looking Tomoyo right in the eye, as if trying to catch anything the other girl hadn't said.

"No, but you really should get going." Tomoyo looked away, and picked up the bag. She reached in and took out a bundle of dark red cloth. Shaking it out, she smiled fondly.

"I made this dress myself. The Master liked it, so he said you should wear it tonight."

Catching Sakura's less-than-ecstatic expression, she sighed. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean for him to like it _so_ much."

Sakura reached out and took the dress from Tomoyo. She looked it up and down. It was indeed a beautiful creation, though not really from her point of view. A form-fitting bodice adorned with tiny diamonds sparkled under the dim light. The skirt was voluminous, though not so much that her figure couldn't be seen, completed with just the right amount of frills. Elegant black designs crawled all around the dress, interlacing with the diamonds and spilling out onto the short, sweeping train.

Sakura looked up, noticing Tomoyo was gazing at her with shining eyes, as if she expected extravagant praise. Sakura had to work to keep her eyebrow from twitching.

"It's...umm...pretty."

Tomoyo smiled happily. "Awesome! I'm so glad you like it. Then you won't mind wearing it so much."

Sakura's eyebrow did twitch as Tomoyo helped her put the dress on. It fit her perfectly.

"Wow," said Tomoyo admiringly. "You look so good, and the colour really contrasts with your eyes. I love it!"

"Yeah." Sakura frantically searched her mind for something that would help her escape from this overeager girl. She was beginning to wonder if anyone could possibly be so happy all the time. It was almost unnatural. "Well...I suppose I'd better go."

"You probably should," Tomoyo agreed. "Good luck again Rika! Though you probably won't need it. The Master seems to favour you."

_That's what I'm worried about._

----------

"Ah, hello Sakura."

Sakura nodded slightly at the figure sitting in his stiff chair. Her eyes wandered towards the back corner. Ever since that day, she had not seen _him_ anywhere. Wrenching her mind from thoughts of his amber eyes staring into her own, she looked straight at the Master, and found herself hating him more than she had before. If thoughts could kill, the man would have died five days ago. _Him and most of the world, _she thought with renewed venom.

"I suppose you have made friends with Tomoyo." He paused, waiting for an answer from her. Stiffly, Sakura stood there and looked back at him. When no answer came, he nevertheless smiled mirthlessly and continued. "I suppose, too, that she has told you everything she thinks there is to know about me, and my organization."

Sakura stood there, her mind working fast. How could he possibly have known that Tomoyo had told her about everything? How could he have known that Eriol had told Tomoyo about everything? And now, what was she to do? If she told him that she did indeed know, and that Tomoyo had indeed spilled, Tomoyo would no doubt get into a huge amount of trouble, and Eriol too. As much as she tried to resist, the other girl was growing on her. Eriol, too, had a kind of charm that was strangely vibrant on her unused "friend" radar. But if she didn't tell him the truth, he would no doubt find out anyway. After all, the Master had many connections. What to do? Protect herself and give away all, or protect them and selflessly put herself on the line?

Suddenly, the Master stood. With a jolt, she realized that this was the first time she'd actually seen him clearly in any position other than his superior sitting one. As he unfolded his long body, she recoiled slightly at the knowledge that he was even more intimidating than before. Somehow though, he seemed more human, and not merely a robot who just sat there and gave commands. The thought of him actually being human scared her more than anything else.

He spoke softly. "Even if she hasn't"--_He doesn't know, _she realized. _He was just trying to corner me into telling..._and hope, an emotion she was not used to, surged inside of her. "---I will tell you. Unfortunately, you may not be able to understand. No matter.

"As you have probably guessed, I have no sons. I have no heirs, no one, not one living relative who will take over the throne of my empire when I die." (_Let that be soon, _Sakura thought dryly.) "My empire is very great. It stretches over a range of things that you can't even begin to comprehend about. However, my request from you is simple. You can help me. You can be a part of the empire that everyone wants to be a part of. There are women who would die to be in your place right now, do you know that little girl?" He looked at her intently. His gaze made her blood run cold, and sent bad vibes rattling down her spine. She knew what was coming next. The look in his eyes said all. She had seen it too many times to be mistaken about it.

"I need you to help me produce an heir. That shouldn't be too hard." He walked closer to her. Against her will, fear and disgust made her step back. He stopped, staring down at her.

"Of course, if you fail to comply, things will happen. Bad things will happen."

Sakura panicked. She didn't know what to do. What was this madman thinking? She gulped, tried to move, couldn't. The Master took this as consent. He moved in closer to her, his eyes gazing hungrily at her body. Grabbing her wrist, he yanked her towards him, and pressed up against her.

Horrified, Sakura nevertheless kept her head. She whirled around fast, and struck out with the heel of her stiletto. Later, thinking about what had happened, she had to give the Master credit. He reacted to her attack so quickly that she barely had time to register what he had done. He grabbed her foot, heel and all, and twisted it in such a way that it was a miracle her whole leg didn't get repositioned. Fighting down the pain, she whipped around and her arm came shooting through the air, aiming for the soft part of his neck. If she had made contact, he would have died instantly, or at least have gone into a coma. Unfortunately, he wasn't called the Master for nothing. His arm shot up and blocked her attack easily, and his hand twisted around and clamped down on her wrist. He forced it up behind her back, and made her bend over to keep the force from snapping the shoulder bone right out of the socket.

The pain was overwhelming. As she stood there, hunched over and leaning on her left leg, all that filled her mind was the pain. Pain, and some self-hatred, at her weak and humbled state. Using the moment of relapse, Sakura breathed deeply and quietly, letting her mind wander, feeling instead her whole body, and not just the areas of pain. As the pain dimmed, she slid her eyes around, trying to spot the Master. She could feel him just behind her, his breathing as light and even as it was when he had been sitting down. Again, she felt an odd sense of awe at what he could do. Until he spoke. When he did, every syllable was controlled, but hidden in his voice was carefully supressed anger.

"I should kill you for trying that bag of old tricks on me." Sakura almost stopped breathing then, knowing full well that he could indeed kill her. No matter how many times she told herself that she didn't care, deep inside, she really wasn't ready for death yet. After all, she wasn't yet eighteen. But she wouldn't let that show. So she just stood there, waiting for the Master's decision. Feeling oddly calm, she knew somehow that he wouldn't kill her. Not today, at least.

"I won't kill you. Not today," he said. Sakura breathed easier. "But that's only because I think you'll change your mind. Perhaps not today, not tomorrow, perhaps not even a year from now." _Damn right. _"So until you do, you shall be punished." _I wonder how much worse my life could get right now. I don't think his punishment would make much difference._ Then,

"Syaoran."

Sakura's eyes flew up, in time to see the boy who had haunted her dreams melt from the shadows and come toward them. She was so preoccupied that she didn't notice the Master had let go of her arms, letting her circulation finally flow. Syaoran came closer.

"Yes Master?"

"Take this girl to the confinement area. Tell Tomoyo to come change her out of that dress, and put something more _suitable _on her. She is not to be released until she relents. You know what I mean."

Syaoran came forward, and grasped Sakura around the wrists.

And though she was almost crying from the pain, though she was dead inside and numb outside, though she was incapable of feeling almost anything, she felt his touch. It electrified her, more intensely than it had the last time they touched. She felt his skin against hers, his fingers wrapping firmly around her arms, and felt the rushing of his blood underneath.

As he straightened her up and walked her quickly out of the room, she felt something else. It was a strange sort of understanding, something that had passed between them the other day when she had watched him being tortured, something she had just brushed off and not paid attention to until this moment. This understanding...it hit her suddenly. She knew. She knew he was just like her.

**(A/N: Well, another chapter. What did you think? Tell me in your reviews. Was it crappy? I will continue this time, but reviews, constructive criticism in particular, will make it better. I apologize to Kawaii Kitty-chan for breaking my promise, and to prove that I'm truly sorry, I will not threaten this time.)**


	5. Something New

**(A/N: A lot of walking happens here, methinks. It's probably pretty crappy. Enjoy.) **

Disclaimer: I do not own Card Captor Sakura. I own whatever their personalities are in this story and any character that I make up. I own my storyline.

Chapter 5

The main passageway branched off, and narrowed as they took yet another turn. The torches were becoming more and more irregular, and for a while, stretches of black accompanied them as they made their way steadily downwards. During a particularly long section of blackness, in which Sakura's neck ached from looking for the light at the end of the tunnel, Syaoran stopped. She halted with him, and felt him turn aside and reach out. Her senses seem to have become even sharper than usual, being connected to him by the wrist as she was.

As if to prove her point, her keen ears picked up the sound of a door sliding back, and she was pulled roughly backwards into a cavern in the rock. Stumbling back, she realized as the door slid shut that she was experiencing what it was like to be blind. The darkness that pressed in on her was complete, or as complete as any darkness she'd ever seen in her life. She felt crippled without her sight in this unfamiliar place, almost as if she'd lost her leg right when she was about to run a marathon. She strained her eyes, trying to see into the pitch that surrounded her. Nothing, not even a slight glimmer of light that could show her the way. She felt like she was drowning in a sea of black...a sea of malice so black it choked her and suffocated her and pulled out what little light she had left inside.

----------

A rough burlap bag was pulled carelessly over her head. A hand pressed itself to her eyes from outside of the bag, not letting her open them. Another pair of hands held her still while a gag was stuffed in her mouth. She gagged as the material nearly choked her. She felt herself being lifted and thrown bodily into a car, where her head hit the metal side with a painful thump. Frantically, she reached into her belt for the knife she always carried with her. Grasping it, she pulled it out and swung it in a wide arc, hearing the satisfying shriek and curse as it sank into human flesh. Yanking it out of whatever it was she'd stabbed, she was ready to swing it up into the person again when someone much heavier grabbed the knife away from her and struck her on the head. She grimaced in pain.

The bag tightened and the hand's grip showed no signs of slacking. Sakura was finding it harder and harder to breathe. The darkness pressed on her, and made her eyes burn for light. The gag was suffocating her, and she was drowning. She was drowning in her darkness, drowning in the sea of darkness that was made by people, the people who didn't care. It made her brain reel, and sent her gasping for air, which was conveniently unavailible in the stuffy space of the burlap bag. Her mind, however, was already working. How to get out? She stilled, and let the sounds of her surroundings wash over her.

Gradually, the hands of her captors loosened, and the pain in her eyes ceased. She could breathe more freely now, but she did not show it. She waited, not moving a muscle. They let their guard down. She waited still. An hour passed, they fell asleep. And she waited.

The van had been driving the whole time. After a while, Sakura noticed that it was just rumbling along slowly. It finally stopped. Yet she waited, as still as the sea before a summer storm. She heard the front door slam, and voices coming around the side of the van. Instantly, she forced herself to become alert. Sitting in one position for over an hour tended to make people lethargic. But her heart beat faster and she felt adrenaline rush through her veins. The slow groanings of her captors trying to rouse themselves reached her ears. _Now or never. _

Sakura reached up and snatched the burlap bag off of her head. Fresh air rushed into her face, and she breathed deeply. The darkness receded a little. Luckily for her, her captors had foolishly forgotten to tie her hands up. She oriented herself in a flash, and jumped up. Leaping for the double doors that were the gates to her prison, she concentrated all her energy and willpower into achieving that one goal beyond them: freedom. The noise of her footstep caught the attention of her captor, and he sat up quickly, eyes still glazed with sleep. As he realized what was happening, he gave a shout. But Sakura had already flung the doors wide open into the face of the driver, stunning him temporarily. She leaped out of the van and landed in pure, white snow. Stumbling, she ran. Tress lined either side of the small road. Sprinting madly, she dashed into the cover of the trees and as far in as she dared go from the road. A thick hedge made the underbrush impossible to go through, so she threw all caution to the winds and jumped into the heart of it. Ignoring the stinging of many small scratches, she burrowed down into the brush and waited, breathing slowly and deeply to calm her heart.

Faintly, she could hear the shouts and cries of the confused criminals. Safe in her untouchable lair, she smiled. She had surfaced from the darkness

----------

Syaoran was getting suspicious. What was wrong with this girl? Why was she just walking along as if nothing was going to happen to her? It was like she didn't care. The thought was strangely unnerving to him. Subconsciously, he tightened his grip on her wrists, making sure she wouldn't get away.

The girl shifted. She turned to look at him. Even in the gloom, he could see her eyes clearly. They were a strangely vibrant shade of green, sparkling in the dim light. He stared back at her, unease growing. She seemed so calm, so unattached. This was like nothing he'd ever experienced in a captive before. _What is she thinking?_

"Keep moving," he said aloud.

"You're cutting off my circulation."

_What? _Syaoran glanced down at her wrists, which he had been holding onto so tightly that her hands were starting to turn purple. _Oh, the poor little girl needs her blood, _he thought stoically. Nevertheless, he loosened his grip slightly. She turned without a word and continued walking, letting him steer her into the dark passages.

----------

Lights appeared. Sakura squinted, her eyes unaccustomed to the sudden brightness. But it was like sunrise after endless night, as welcome as beautiful music after deathly silence. And she could see.

They were walking down a long hall made of the same kind of stone the walls in the Master's room had been of. Doors were set into the walls, one after another. They were spaced meticulously, so that Sakura doubted they were different by even a centimetre. She realized that this was an ingenious way of making sure no intruders ever got in here. If they got in, they'd never get out. Passages branched every which way, and it all started looking like a maze to Sakura.

Syaoran walked her down what felt like hundreds of hallways, and finally stopped in front of one of the doors. He opened it and pushed her in.

Sakura looked around. The dimly lit chamber was quite small, and consisted of a single hard-looking bed and a foul-smelling toilet. It seemed little better than the room she had before.

"These will be your chambers until further notice." Syaoran turned to go.

Sakura felt herself getting annoyed.

"So what am I supposed to do here 'until further notice'? Twiddle my thumbs and stare at the wall, waiting for you to come _rescue_ me so that I can go back and be raped by that psychomaniac again?" Whoops. She hadn't meant to let so much of her thoughts slip. Strange. She never made mistakes like that.

But before she had time to dwell on it, Syaoran was right in front of her, staring her down. His amber eyes were strangely empty yet again, and his voice was cold and flat.

"Don't insult the Master, _Sakura_."

Something about him then, something about the way he said her name made her forget where she was. Her mind was blank; there was nothing in the world but him and her. The hand that had been hers all along seemed to have a mind of its own as it reached out. Syaoran just stood there, like he didn't even see her. But when her hand drifted up and touched his cheek, the world changed. His eyes widened in surprise, as did hers. Never in her wildest dreams had she ever imagined she would be here in front of the apprentice of her worst enemy, barely a few inches apart, feeling his rough skin beneath her fingertips. Suddenly, recognition sparked in his eyes, and ignited something in hers. The cold shells within them cracked, splintered, fell away. And she saw him just as he was...a boy, with nothing in the world. He saw her as she was...a girl, with nothing in the world. They knew in that moment, they had only each other.

His breathing became ragged; Sakura felt her heart speed up, thumping louder and louder. They moved closer. There was no doubt about it now, both of them were exposed to the other, both of them knew exactly what was going on and what was about to happen. And Sakura felt something strange inside of her. The adrenaline in her body rushed onward, attacking her mind and swirling all her thoughts into a restless river. She could think of nothing but him, nothing but of how close he was, and how intensely his eyes were gazing into her own.

_Clink! _

Their eyes wrenched away from each other, searching desperately for the source of the sound. A pair of old fashioned iron handcuffs hung on the wall. A slight breeze from nowhere had caused it to swing up against the wall, the shivering torchlight throwing its shadows into ominous gloom. They both relaxed. It was only a pair of handcuffs.

But the connection that they had was gone. Sakura felt it as clearly as though it had been a physical impact, something that was so precious, that she had for a few untouchable moments, wrenched apart and shattered.

Syaoran seemed to have gone through the same thing. But as she looked at him, she saw that his eyes were blank again. He turned away from her.

"You're to stay here. Don't try to leave." As he said this, he walked out of the door and shut it with a final-sounding click behind him. There was no handle on her side of the door.

Sakura stared after him. Slowly, she turned around and walked over to the bed. Sitting down on it, she pulled the thin blanket up around her shoulders and huddled there. What was wrong with her? Syaoran...what was wrong with _him_? He seemed so distant, yet in the space of a heartbeat, he could be changed impeccably into an entirely different person.

_I wonder what happened to him in his past to make him like this. _

She lay down on the hard pillow, and closed her eyes. But burned into her retinas was the image of Syaoran's intense amber eyes. They looked at her, looked deep into her soul. _Save me. _

**(A/N: Nooo it's 12:03 am. I didn't update soon enough. Procrastination is not a virtue. Tell me what you thought. Ideas? Suggestions? Tell me.)**


	6. Crumble

**(A/N: Sorry about not updating sooner…it's a little something called a writer's block. Here it is though. Enjoy.) **

Disclaimer: I do not own Card Captor Sakura. I own whatever their personalities are in this story and any character that I make up. I own my storyline.

Chapter 6

She was running. To where, she didn't know. She only knew that if she stopped running...

The darkness...it was all around her, enveloping her like a noxious cloud, pressing in on her senses. No matter how wide she stretched her eyes, willing them to pierce through the dark, she could see nothing but black. Though she was running, the darkness all looked the same. She didn't know if it was passing her by, or if she was passing it by. She didn't know if she was just running in one place, like a helpless rat in a testing lab. Forever running, never to go anywhere, never to stop.

But, oh, how she longed to stop. The strain on her body and mind was unbearable beyond imagining. If she didn't stop soon, it would tear her apart completely...she would sink into the endless pit of despair...the pit in which all those before her had gone into but never come out of again. She'd seen it too much. People gone mad, because they couldn't stop, because they couldn't bear to break down the walls that they'd built up to shut the world out, because they couldn't bear to break down those walls that concealed them. They'd struggled in the end, struggled with life, struggled with themselves, until death claimed them and they'd fallen into that bottomless pit.

Pain. Constant, unrelenting pain. Pain was what broke people in the end. It was unlike any other feeling in the world. The constant coldness and hurt, knawing away inside, until you couldn't stand it anymore. It ended lives, for nothing. It was different. It was like a drug, even. To have the pain, to know that it was there. Pain let you cry. Crying brought tears. And tears brought relief. That is, if you could cry.

Some people liked the pain. Knives, needles, whips even...they were good to those who did.

But Sakura hated it. She had been taken in by pain before, been intoxicated with it, relied on it, and nearly drowned in it. The thin white scars on her left wrist proved that. And now she was running. Away from the pain. And she couldn't stop.

----------

Somebody was shaking her. _No, no! Get away from me…_

_Somebody was there…in the dark…they turned their head towards her. She quickly withdrew, putting a hand on her chest as if to still her fast-beating heart. If they saw her, it was all over. _

_A rustling of cloth…a cold hand on her arm. They'd found her. She nearly cried out in terror. Forcing herself to calm down, she took slow breaths. They didn't know her name. That was good. She could still get away. _

_"Come on, come out of there…" the voice was distant. _

Don't let them know…don't let them know, _she prayed. _

_"Now…" _Don't, don't…

_"Sakura…" _

----------

Tomoyo knocked gently on the door. Hearing no reply, she inserted the key into the lock and entered the room. Her dress rustling softly, she approaching the figure sleeping peacefully on the bed, she looked down at the face of the girl she had now come to see as her friend. Watching her, she realised that Sakura's sleep was far from untroubled. There was cold sweat in a clammy sheen around her body, and she was slightly shaking her head from side to side, her brow furrowing.

Suddenly, she sat up quickly, startling Tomoyo. Unseeing, Sakura trembled, panting slightly, her eyes wide.

_So…dark. _

Tomoyo was alarmed. She laid a hand on Sakura's arm, but that only seemed to agitate her more. Her panting accelerated, and her chest heaved with the force of the air rushing in and out of her lungs.

"Come on, come out of there…" Tomoyo said, frightened. Her words did nothing. Sakura's hands were trembling; her legs were shaking as she tensed to run from her invisible foe.

What to do? If she left Sakura alone to get help, something might happen while she was gone. If she stayed, she would have to help her immediately. And she didn't know how.

"Now." She was near tears. If she didn't wake Sakura up soon, the other girl would die from the strain on her mind and body.

"Sakura," she said desperately. _Her real name. She's not Rika to me anymore. _

The name seemed to have the desired effect. Sakura sprang up, out of the bed. Her eyes were wild, like a trapped animal's. Tomoyo reached out and took her hand, gently reminding her that she was okay. Sakura's gaze rested on her for a second, and the half-crazed shine went out of her eyes as she recognised Tomoyo. Her breathing calmed, her chest stopped its frantic fluttering and slowed down as she came back to reality. She held on tightly to Tomoyo's hand and looked into her eyes.

"Thank you."

A warm feeling came over Tomoyo, and she smiled. "You're welcome. After all, what are friends for?"

Sakura seemed surprised. "Friends?"

Tomoyo nodded. "Friends."

And Sakura smiled. It was a small smile, a slightly hesitant, quavering smile, as if she had forgotten how to smile truly. But it was a smile.

----------

----------

Eriol patted her back gently as tears streamed down her face. "It's okay Tomoyo. You weren't even supposed to do it. Syaoran was."

"That doesn't make it okay! It's so wrong." Tomoyo's normally beautiful face was a haggard mask of tears. "I just left her there…"

"I'm sure she understands."

"Even if she does, I don't think she could ever think of me as a friend again. I went in there, having to do a terrible thing to her…"

----------

_"Sakura…I'm sorry."_

_She trembled as she met the other girl's gaze. Sakura's voice was emotionless as she spoke. "Why? I know you have to follow orders."_

_Tomoyo couldn't bear to speak as she tightened the cuff so that Sakura's thin hand couldn't slip through. She couldn't bear to look, even, at Sakura's body, dressed only in a few small strips of leather. Her thoughts did nothing to help. _

The Master…how could he? He can't force Sakura to produce an heir for him, because she doesn't love him. What he did yesterday was a mistake. He had to punish himself._ She shuddered. _But he can still rape her, and if Sakura can't get out, it'll be all my fault…

_Swallowing hard, she locked the cuff and turned away, to hide the pain of what she had to do from the girl who was staring at her with blank green eyes. The same eyes that had thanked her a few short minutes ago. She could never look directly into them again. _

----------

"And I just left her," she said again, softly. "I just left her there." She looked up at Eriol. "Why didn't Syaoran do it yesterday?"

"I don't know. The Master thinks he was distracted somehow, and he forgot his place. He was punished."

Tomoyo cringed. "Poor Syaoran. But I still wish I hadn't done it."

Eriol's hand had stilled in its comforting path up and down her back. But his words were kind. "You had no choice."

"I could have loosened it or something…made it easier for her to slip out and run. But I was too cowardly." she rubbed her eyes vigorously with the heels of her hands. Crying didn't help. Sakura had taught her that. "I wish I did have a choice. I wish I could choose what I wanted to do each day, instead of having to listen to the Master, and hurt the ones that are close to me."

Eriol laughed sadly. "Tomoyo, if we had choices, I can't even begin to tell you how different things would be right now."

She gave a shaky sigh. He was right.

"What if I have to hurt _you _someday, Eriol?"

"I'll know that you didn't do it on your own free will, and I'd forgive you for whatever it was you had to do."

Eriol always made her feel better.

"So what can I do now?" she whispered.

"Wait."

----------

Here she was, hanging listlessly by her wrists on the cold stone wall, and felt like the world was crashing down around her again. She was being dragged down, both mentally and physically, her shoulders close to being pulled out of their sockets, searing her with pain. But that was nothing compared to what was going on inside her head.

_Tomoyo. I thought she was my friend. And yet…she just left. Without even looking back. This hurt inside…I feel it. I thought I was immune to pain that people could cause me, but I guess I was wrong. In the end, it's my fault anyway. I trusted her. I let my guard down around her. I helped her to fool me into thinking that she was actually my friend. Well, I've learned my lesson this time. No more trust. Ever. _

The door swung open, lifting her out of her reverie. It broke her concentration, and the barely suppressed pain in her shoulders roared out again, making her grimace. She glanced up from behind her curtain of concealing hair, and saw two people walk into the room.

_Great. Publicity. _

The taller of the two walked towards her. The other came in and melted into the shadows on the far wall.

If sinking into the wall were possible, Sakura would have done it right there and then. Looking down at her with those ever-predatory eyes was the thin, harsh face of the Master.

"Hello, Sakura. Are you ready to continue our little game?"

Here she was. Hanging by her wrists on a cold stone wall, with the man that had tried to rape her before standing here, ready to do it again. The world came crashing down.

**(A/N: If anybody has any suggestions or anything, please PM me and let me know. I have a new story almost done, and I'll be posting it soon. Keep an eye out for it, if you're interested. It's quite a bit lighter than this one.) **


	7. Out of the Darkness

**(A/N: It's quite painful in this chapter. I think. Enjoy.) **

Disclaimer: I do not own Card Captor Sakura. I own whatever their personalities are in this story and any character that I make up. I own my storyline.

Chapter 7

Tomoyo bit her lip. Standing up in the small kitchen room, she stretched her arms and tried to work out the cramp in her calf. Eriol had left some time ago, when a servant had come in and called him away to pick something up for the Master. She was alone.

Faintly, she recalled a time when she had been alone, just like this. Alone, but she had been happy. The carefree life she'd led then seemed infinitely far away, in a whole other world; in a whole other life. After all, she'd only been three when she had been pulled from the bosom of her wealthy environment, and forced to work for the Master.

The Daidouji family had been one of the wealthiest and most powerful families in the whole of Japan, and indeed in most of Asia itself. Only the Li Clan of Hong Kong, and the Kinomoto family, who owned a large part of the mountains in northern Japan, had rivalled them in their position.

Tomoyo had been brought up in an isolated environment, as a pampered young mistress and surrounded by servants. Her parents were always too busy to pay her much attention, and let her do whatever she liked. Nevertheless, the servants loved her as their own, and raised her to be the best person she could possibly have been.

Tomoyo sighed. She needed someone to love her now. There was nothing here. No one to hold close, no one to hold her close if she needed to cry. Nothing here…nothing here to live for.

But as she let her mind drift back to those faraway days, she remembered dimly one of the highlights in her lonely life, apart from the time she'd spent with the servants.

She had loved to dance. And sing.

Now, she smiled. Raising her arms to form a delicate circle over her head, she hummed a tune that she remembered from those old days, and let her body move to the music. Her feet knew this dance; all the simple and lovely steps that criss-crossed over each other, and spun out an intricate tune that flowed as easily as it did from her lips. And here, dancing like this, without a care of who could see her or what would happen if someone found out, she felt as if she were flying away, far away from all her problems, far away from everything that was wrong in this world. Closing her eyes, she felt her heart lift, and her soul soar with the joy of it.

_But yes_, she thought, _there is something here worth living for._

----------

Sakura was pressed up against the cold wall, hanging by her wrists, suspended from the two rusty iron handcuffs. The Master loomed over her. And she was afraid.

"Don't be," he crooned, his icy voice smothered with false sympathy. "Don't be afraid of me…"

As he leaned down, his musky breath striking her nose with a painfully familiar pang, she shuddered. She felt his smooth, devil-cursed hands as they slid along the skin of her stomach, up…up…

----------

"Stay still, little girl." A voice, husky with lust, hissed into her ear. Rough hands grabbed at her arms, pinning them down as another set of hands tore at her clothes.

Sakura could only clench her teeth in horrified disgust, cursing herself for not being more patient and waiting for the two men to pass.

An acquaintance of hers had been late in coming to pick her up to go to a rave that was being held downtown. The two always went, not for the party or drinks, but for the expensive weapons that somehow always landed outside in the dump in the morning.

But her acquaintance hadn't arrived, and after waiting for over ten minutes, she had decided to walk into a brighter area where she could see and be seen more clearly. The large front lobby of the hotel her crew was staying near had large yellow lights, and plenty of other nighttime characters she could intermingle with. But she had to cut through an alleyway to get there, and being as impatient as she was to get to the rave, she walked right into the alley without minding the two men who were standing there smoking.

As she walked by them, her eyes fixed only on the light of the hotel ahead of her, she felt a disturbance in the air behind her. Immediately, she had started to turn around, ready to fight. But there were two of them, and they overpowered her, struck her until she could see blackness at the edges of her vision, and then pinned her down.

So here she was now.

_Stupid, _she said again inside her head. _You're fucking stupid, you know that Sakura?_ But there was nothing she could do about it now. So she gritted her teeth and waited for that moment when she could escape.

As her shirt came off, the men stared at her body, despite her feeble attempts to hide herself. The moment of escape didn't come. The man holding her down had tightened his grip, and no matter how she tried to wrench free, she couldn't.

Something hard pressed against her thigh, and a strong reek of alcohol and body odour surrounded her as the man lowered himself onto her. She retched, her mind reeling with disgust. He pulled back, surprised at her antics.

"Maybe this one's too soft," the man who was holding her said dumbly him.

"She'll be all the more fun to break then," the other replied, leering at her with a predatory glint in his eyes.

"But—" The first man's eyes suddenly grew wide, and he let out a cry of pain as blood came gushing out of nowhere.

Sakura's hand found the blood vessel in his wrist. She had squeezed. Hard. Using this moment of distraction, in which both the men were confused and unsure, she again pulled with all her strength, and this time succeeded in getting her arms free. The other man was still kneeling on her legs, but she kicked up hard, and he fell back with a grunt of pain.

Grabbing her long overcoat and tattered shirt, she sprinted away as fast as her legs would carry her.

----------

Sakura saw it all happen again before her eyes, in that infinitesimal moment before the Master's face appeared in front of hers, his hands already removing what little she wore. And in that moment, she remembered that even in that dark alley, that time when those drunken men were going to rape her, she had felt no fear.

But now…now, as she felt it all again, she did. Fear. That sickening, suffocating, overpowering fear that haunted her from the days when she truly had been afraid.

And as it finally took over her, broke through that wall she had built to keep herself sane, all her emotions were finally released in a great flooding torrent of pain. And she screamed.

----------

Syaoran stepped silently into the room behind the Master, heading for a dark corner into which he could camouflage so as to observe the proceedings. In doing so, the Master unblocked his line of vision, and he could see Sakura.

He saw her thin body, her ribcage so apparent that it was almost impossible that she was still healthy, her shoulders as they bent at an angle that obviously pained her, the subtle flicker of expression on her otherwise blank face…and her eyes…

It was those startlingly green eyes that were so empty, yet so full of emotion. It was the thought of them, watching him and holding him down that kept him from going insane every day. It was, and had been, ever since that first day when he had come face-to-face with her in her prison, had seen her staring into his eyes as she fought to get her breath back, and then he had almost…

Syaoran's brow furrowed as a sharp pain shot through his head. Immediately, the still-sore wounds on his back began to ache.

_That's right, _he thought dully. _I mustn't think of the girl. She doesn't matter. _

He stepped back into the shadows of the room, feeling the darkness envelope him like a cold blanket. A slight breeze blew at his back from a nonexistent other world, and he shifted to get out of its way, his eyes never leaving the scene unfolding so rapidly before him.

In the flickering torchlight, it was apparent to him that the Master intended to fully take advantage of the situation. Syaoran, despite the fact that he was subtly unaware of such paltry goings-on, took note of the small seed of fear that had sprouted in Sakura's eyes. He dismissed the thought before his mind could again remind him that the Master would punish him if he did not keep his thoughts away from her. After all, the slashes on his back were still healing, and it would be quite painful to have them reopened. Yes, he knew it would be.

But just as he was reverting back to his usual indifferent state, a bloodcurdling, heart-chilling scream echoed in the small stone chamber.

His eyes opened wide in shock, as he saw Sakura cry out, writhing in pain and fear, the Master's hands still touching her. She kicked out, her legs flailing as they struggled to get a hold on the floor, her face contorted with pain as her arms were nearly wrenched out of their sockets.

The Master, apparently taken by surprise, nevertheless recovered quickly. He grasped the struggling girl around her waist, trying to keep her from kicking him, but she swung so wildly that he couldn't hold on, and a fierce jab from her leg in his unprepared gut sent him reeling, his face pallid as he gasped for air.

Syaoran stood there, rooted to the spot, unbelieving. Sakura had just hurt the Master. Nobody should hurt the Master. Nobody would hurt the Master. Hell, nobody _could _hurt the Master. But here he was, bent wheezing on the floor, clutching his stomach while Sakura cried and cried above him.

Suddenly, she looked up, and it was as if her eyes could suddenly pierce the gloom and see Syaoran standing there. He felt like she could.

The agony in her face was overwhelmingly powerful, even for him. He saw right through her, and in one shocking moment felt her pain too. It was vast, unimaginably vast, like a canyon stretching from one corner of the galaxy to a distant other, immeasurable throughout the space of time. It wasn't just the physical pain she felt now, no. It was all the hurt of all the years, come crashing down in that one second when her walls had broken.

If anybody else but Syaoran had been there in that moment, they would have seen nothing but a mad, dancing light in her eyes and the froth that gathered at her lips as her mind pushed itself over the edge. But it _was_ Syaoran, and he saw her as she was. Helpless, yes. Dying, yes. But she could still be saved.

His body moved faster than his mind could. He sprang forward, out of the darkness and into the light. As it hit him, the air suddenly seemed still. There was only one thing in the world that he could reach for, and only one thing in the world that mattered. In that second of realization, all his doubts melted away. His fear of the consequences seemed insubstantial, almost as if they weren't there. The only thing he cared about now was saving her.

Sakura realized it too. As if in a dream, she saw him suddenly appear out of the shadows, his arms reaching for her, his eyes telling her to hold on. Those few seconds of control she had over herself were enough. They had to be.

But the Master was still there, still conscious. As Sakura's screams suddenly halted, he was on his feet, the bruise that he had gained rapidly being forgotten. He saw Sakura's eyes, fixed on something beyond his shoulder. There was no doubt about what it was.

He raised his hand, and hit Sakura with all his strength on her face, and his strength was no small matter.

The last blow was too much for her to handle. The blackness that had been blurring the edges of her vision finally took over, and she fell into oblivion.

----------

Syaoran saw the strike as if it had been in slow motion. The Master's hand raised up, up, high into the air, and came down so hard on her face that within seconds, it had turned from deathly white to a frightening shade of red. And he saw her as she blacked out, watched all the recognition go out of her eyes as she finally fell into that peaceful darkness.

Something erupted forth then, coming straight out of his chest and burning his mind with its white-hot intensity. Hatred. Oh, how he hated the Master in that moment, hated his oily, greasy manner, hated the ice-cold chips he had for eyes, hated the way he walked and talked and thought. But he hated the satisfied expression on the Master's face the most. Yes, how he hated it.

Without a second thought, his hand reached for the knife he kept by his side. It whistled down upon the Master's turned back, its blade screaming for bloody revenge.

**(A/N: I worked hard here. I'm not usually good at writing cliffhangers, because I don't much like them myself. But I promise I'll get the next chapter up fast…if you want it.)**


	8. Realization

**(A/N: Realization. Of feelings and otherwise. Enjoy.) **

Disclaimer: I do not own Card Captor Sakura. I own whatever their personalities are in this story and any character that I make up. I own my storyline.

Chapter 8

The shining silver hurtled down, catching the light. Later, Syaoran was to remember this, and wonder if it were the lights that had given him away.

The Master moved, so quickly that the eye could not follow. Half a moment ago, his hand had been flat on the ground, supporting his weight as he regained his breath. Now it was at Syaoran's throat. And it squeezed.

Syaoran felt the pressure; couldn't breathe. He tried to draw breath, but the hand had cut off his circulation completely, forcing the used air back down his throat. He choked, again trying desperately to inhale. Red and purple blotches dotted his vision; it was becoming harder and harder to focus. All his training had been forgotten in the space of a minute, when he'd attacked and had not been prepared for the consequences.

The knife jerked hesitantly away from its path, slowed, fell. The sound of it hitting the stone floor had a terrible tone of finality.

Dimly, Syaoran saw the Master get back on his feet. He was still panting slightly, but his hand was strong. Choking, choking…

----------

A sickening slash of pain brought him back into consciousness. Before he could recover, another came. And another, and another.

His mind fought the torture, fought to keep from sinking into that emotionless shell that he could retreat into to seek shelter from the pain. He was being torn apart, ravaged by the battle within; retreat or go mad. The shield, _his _shield, the one that kept all his feelings and hurts and vulnerabilities locked away, could be his downfall. He couldn't lower it once it came up.

But he had to, or go mad from the strain on his mind. Letting an inaudible cry of despair escape from his lips, he closed his eyes once again and let the waves of indifference wash over him.

----------

"Syaoran," somebody called softly. His mind struggled to wake him from his slumber, as much as he subconsciously protested. But the voice called to him…bade him to wake. It was a voice he'd heard only twice before, both in unfortunately memorable circumstances, and thus he remembered now whose voice it was. As if he had ever forgotten…

Sakura… 

Syaoran's eyelids slowly opened, and the pain came back in a great rush, biting him and stinging him and mocking his weakness, so that he nearly cried out. The open wounds on his back felt like lines of fire, burning him without mercy. Behind him, he could still hear the faint _drip, drip _of blood, and feel it running slowly off of his back.

He closed his eyes again, trying to will away the pain whilst clinging on to the small whisper of the voice in his mind. If only he could think straight…

"Syaoran? Wake up," the voice said. It sounded so far away… Strangely enough, he felt an unexplainable urge to obey, and so he opened his eyes and tried to find his way out of the darkness. 

As the blurriness in his vision was receding, he tried to focus on something, anything, to take his mind off of the pain. The first thing he saw was a wall. It was cold and damp, the incessant torchlight playing across it in an unsettling manner that made his head spin. Dimly he realized that his arms were bound to the wall, and he was slumped over, the uncomfortable position making his shoulders ache.

_Sakura had it worse…she was actually hanging off of the wall…_

Why was he thinking of her? Why, when he had cut off the contact he had with the rest of the world? He shouldn't have been able to… Perhaps she was affecting him more than she should have been…

Something stirred at the edge of his vision. Syaoran was in too much pain to react quickly. With great effort, he turned his head.

He was in a cage. Or rather, half of it. Three stone walls made up an unbreakable barrier, and a wall of iron mesh separated him from the next cell. Someone was in it.

Narrowing his eyes, he could just make out a figure, standing with its back to the wall as he was. It seemed to have its head turned towards him. Faintly, he heard the voice calling him again.

"Syaoran…"

Confused, he realized that the voice seemed to be coming from the other cell. But why would it? Sakura couldn't possibly be here…

----------

The joy of dancing had long worn out for Tomoyo, and when Eriol stepped into the small room, it was the sight of her staring into the flickering fire with a sad glaze in her eyes that greeted him. He paused for a moment to study her.

Thin lines of worry and anxiety, so rare on someone so young, crawled lightly across her forehead and eyes. Sleepless nights had made her tired face pale, and deepened the shadows under her eyes. But they were still beautiful. Their violet and amethyst hues, rarely missing the cheerful spark, brightened his day. Her long, wavy hair that he longed to run his fingers through…

He stopped himself. She could never know of his feelings. They were meaningless, as pointless as the waves lapping gently at the foot of a great mountain. His thoughts of her were dangerous, especially in a place like this.

But waves could one day wear the mountain down, and smooth it over until it was a shining stone…

Tomoyo shifted, bringing him out of his reverie. Her back rose and fell slightly as she sighed and buried her eyes in the heels of her hands. He walked up silently behind her, and laid a hand on her shoulder. She looked up into his worried eyes.

"Are you okay, Tomoyo?"

She smiled slightly. "I'm fine."

When he raised his eyebrows at her, she tried to smile sheepishly. But she couldn't.

"Tomoyo." He took a seat beside her. "You can tell me." And though his tone was caring, Eriol couldn't keep the bitter thoughts from his mind. That was all she would ever see him as: an older brother, a protector, a mentor, perhaps, on the ways of life. Someone who would listen to her fears, and chase them away as a brother would. Only a brother.

He saw her glance over at him carefully as he sat there, his grave blue eyes fixed on her face. She could never hide anything from him. He was too observant of her. She knew it too, and turned away from him to look back into the fire as she spoke.

"I'm just…just…a little worried, I suppose."

"Ah." He sank back, nodding gently. "Yes. I understand."

They sat in silence. But Eriol didn't know that Tomoyo was wishing he would say something. The lack of noise gave her too much room to think.

----------

"Tomoyo, don't cry."

A young boy with dark blue eyes and large, wire-rimmed glasses comforted a small girl, who was sobbing uncontrollably.

The girl sniffed, her face buried into a white handkerchief. The little boy stroked her hair, whispering soothing words to her.

"Sometimes," he told her, his clever, polite personality evident even at such a young age, "We don't think about things we don't want to think of. Instead, we ask ourselves questions that we know have answers we'll like."

She looked up at him with watery eyes, uncomprehending. He smiled at her, and continued.

"But that's the wrong way to go about life. We have to ask ourselves all kinds of questions, and think about all kinds of things. Even the things we don't want to think about. Even the questions that we know have disappointing answers, we still must ask ourselves. If you think about it, putting off the disappointment will only make it worse when you actually find the courage to face it."

The girl clenched her eyes and buried her face into his chest.

"So…" her small voice was muffled. "So…you mean…I should get over it now?"

His dark blue eyes looked down at her fondly, and a soft smile passed his lips. "Yes, Tomoyo. That's exactly what I mean."

----------

Tomoyo still remembered that day, and that immeasurably important lesson Eriol had taught her as he patted her on the back and stopped her tears. So she turned her mind to the question, that solidly inevitable question that was sitting there in her head, waiting to be asked. The one that nagged at her conscience, and made her wince with guilt every time she tried to smile…

_What could be happening to Sakura?_

----------

When she had awoken in this new chamber (she could only presume it was because she had been too "disobedient" to have an actual bed), she had had to work to recall the events of the night before. It was happening more and more often, this lapse in her memory.

As soon as she gathered her thoughts, she looked around. Her arms ached, the pain of separation still evident. She longed to hold them, and run her hands along her shoulders, perhaps just to feel her own skin and find some comfort within herself. But chained to a wall, she couldn't very well do that.

Then she realized that she was wearing a long and tattered piece of flannel, perhaps the same kind that had been used in the bedding of her previous chamber; roughly made, scratchy, and limiting in all movement. It looped ill-fittingly over her shoulders and dropped down abruptly to her knees.

_Well, _she reasoned. _At least I'm not bare. _

For some odd reason, this relatively optimistic statement made her think of Syaoran.

_He must be getting to me. Why else would I think such happy thoughts?_

She blinked to clear her head, then glanced around to take a better look at her surroundings. Three walls were made of stone, and the last out of an odd, glistening type of metal mesh that she had never seen before. Through it, she saw another chamber that resembled her own. There seemed to be someone in it.

Squinting, she saw the outline of a person pressed up against the wall, seemingly unconscious. His head was down, his chin touching his chest. A shiver ran down her spine as she saw that he seemed to be hanging by his arms. Her shoulders throbbed slightly in sympathy, and all of a sudden, she found herself feeling sorry for him. This stranger, whom she had never met before in her life, she was feeling sad for. _Why? _

Realization dawned. Only one person, no matter how near or far, could make her feel this way. In the back of her mind, she'd known it was him all along…

"Syaoran…" her thoughts had escaped her in the form of a word, calling out his name. It sounded so…hopeful, echoing in the dim chamber.

She saw his figure shift slightly, before his head lifted and he looked straight at her. Their eyes met, and in a single electric moment, the familiar, yet still so shocking current passed through them again. It warmed her so that she could feel her skin become hot. Her forehead burned and her breathing sped up. But it did more than that.

One thought wormed its way through the heat. This single statement in her mind held more emotion than she possibly thought she could have contained in her entire being. It ignited her soul, burning her with its fiery passion, the shock of it registering only after it had passed.

_I love him. _

"Syaoran…"

**(A/N: Quite boring, no? If you want something lighter, I just posted a new story today. It's called Their Separate Ways. It kind of resembles my other story, but not really. I need opinions on that one though, and how I can improve on it. If anyone can find the time to give me some feedback, it would be greatly appreciated.)**


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